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Boy:      You love me back...
              you do, don’t you?
Girl:      I can’t be so bold,
              neither can I sling a single ‘not’,
              nor hurl to you a hurting bolt.

Boy:      Won’t we meet again by the grace of Luck?
              Won’t these ticks of Luck tock us a tittle knock?
Girl:      My time for you won’t tick that tock,
              nor shall yours be the tickles you sought.

Boy:      Don't let tiny ticks clip love with cutting clicks.
              Every scented rose sure has its piercing ******
              though love's tricks shall, too, mull soul's briny creeks
              for a rainbow glow on your rain swept cheeks.

Girl:      Don't you see we're buffed in baffling bricks
              and Time has caged us in her muffling ribs?

Boy:      But, I guess you know of poems of want,
              lines love-wrought which Defiance sought?
Girl:      That, too, I can tell you not
              whether I can read a single word love wrote.

Boy:      Love’s capriciously wrought in this plot.
              You can’t be of the same selfish sort!
Girl:     .....

Boy:     No, a shimmering story bestowed
             from the gone old days of gold...
Girl:     : ))

Boy:     Why! Shouldn’t smiles bend Time’s knee
             and in glee thus be free?
             Could love only ever be a wee old fantasy?
Girl:   .....

Boy:     We can speak of it not.
             All the same, can deny it not.

             Longingly locked in Luck’s ill-fitting frock!
Girl:   .....

Boy:     My heart is bold; can’t tame it, I fought.
             And, without it, would I be the man I sought?
Girl:   .....

Boy:     With or without you I’m not.
             Blind a barbed knot!
             How I wish I cared not a single jot.
Girl:     That’s a terrible knot.
             You must curl to it not.

Boy:     Yes, no;
             if you here shall ever be not,
             and Time’s silver I sought
             in your hair be forgot,
             I’ll upon thee more love allot.
Girl:     ?!

Boy:     The stars in thine eyes I’ll never be.
             Nor the silver in your hair shall I stay ‘n see.
             But,
             there’s this in me Time is green with envy:
             this deity on the knee who loves loving thee.
             This heart for thee shall heed no decree;
             that which makes this sorry boy you see
             the very divine friend that he will ever be.
Girl:      : ))))))
Fate and the human heart are enemies; their battles we fight.
 May 2019 Pagan Paul
Jayne E
Back in my bed under covers
A place made perfect for lovers
All softened light lovely & warm
my honey-bee's love upon me does swarm

show me now dearest I beg of you
the things your lovers body can do
to quieten down my building storms
as my passions rain down see me transform

from sweet quiet rose to rolling like thunder
all my mysteries will pull you under
into my now swirling eddies
my body made just for you is more than ready
to show you how much I do love thee
by loosened tresses or on bended knee
Its urgent my passion & will see your fire freed

I beg you to
burn me down to ember red ashes rain down on me loves sweeter lashes
your mind I love but it cannot be denied
your honeyed ***** I crave to release my sighs
so take me now with strong wild desire
I will give it all back to send us much higher

my tongue my hands my ***** my hips
uttered soft words drip from my lips
no doubt felt for how much I want you
on my knees, love, I beg you take me do

J.C. honey-assassin 29/05/2019.
 May 2019 Pagan Paul
Olivia
Do you hear the old gods singing?
Through marble bones
And filtered sunlight
Their semblance,
Cold and undying
Painstakingly chiseled
And forced into placidity.
Yet still they sing.
 May 2019 Pagan Paul
Jayne E
Adrift.
 May 2019 Pagan Paul
Jayne E
Adrift, floating on this sea
Solitary, darkest night encircles me.
Unable to see, I feel the
Pea soup fog enveloping me
Craving land, seeking light
Or deeply sought dual toned
diaphonic night-call,
to guide me home.

J.C. honey-assasin 29/05/2019
 May 2019 Pagan Paul
Katie
Rips
 May 2019 Pagan Paul
Katie
A hard hit.
      
        Smoke hangs
low, slowly slithering
       from a cracked smile.
Her vexed and vacant
       visage is frozen
for a moment...

and her glossy eyes, glazed
      with frigid gloom, dilate.
Expelling expired air
      she hacks in exoneration,
as if some spirit's
       clutch surrendered
her soul, shaking
       her skeletal frame
in a passionate
       fit of unbridled hate.

She relaxes in her recliner...

       relief.
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